As Long As You're Mine
by M'selle de Paris
Summary: Erik & Christine in the 'Point of No Return' scene but with 'As Long as You're Mine' from Wicked. Their realizations about their feelings come to them during the sensual song. You'll wish you were Christine...!


Oh! Hey! Guess what it is!- It's my first one-shot romance phic! Woot...fine, don't be excited. I was- I thought of this as I was listening to a certain song on the bus ride home today.

And I sacrified some of my Social Studies homework time for this, I'll have you know. (Not that I'd rather do _that_...)

Heh. Well, anyways- please review and tell me what you think! Basically, it's the Point of No Return scene- except with 'As Long as You're Mine' from Wicked as the song they sing instead. And this is all my original choreography...well, the way it went in my head, anyways... ;)

* * *

It was him. 

Christine knew of no other voice in the world as smooth, rich, spinning, entrancing…seductive. She was no longer the wandering child, lost and guessing, turning to the closet arms for comfort: all in a moment she knew, knew what he could do—knew he'd do whatever it took.

And he knew she now knew.

Her eyes flitted towards the closed curtains of the antechamber on the set. When those curtains were drawn, and a horror revealed inside, Christine wouldn't be shocked: she already knew.

She knew so much now. It was as though she'd completely grown up in a single moment…the moment she recognized this Phantom's voice: and didn't care…

The music began; soft, but with an intensity behind it that powered her further. She stood slowly, letting the silky material of her dress slide noiselessly over her long, graceful legs, and moved to the front, center stage, all the while sensing his presence behind her. Then she felt hands, his hands, resting lightly on her hips. A light touch, but one that almost drained her of power. Slowly they slid up to her waist, and his arms encircled her from behind, in a temptingly loose embrace.

She took a deep, shuddering—but silent—breath, breathing in his smell, that familiar essence which always turned her mind limp, and that was when her body would take over. She felt that moment coming, soon: and she knew that however she felt in the next few minutes could change everything.

Suddenly and strangely calm, she crossed her arms and placed her hands on his, drawing him closer, tighter. He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her bare shoulder, and—somehow powered by this—she began to sing.

_"Kiss me too fiercely, hold me too tight… I need help believing you're with me tonight…"_

She began softly, but her mystical, mesmerizing voice pierced the hidden tension, drawing the audience in (whom she'd almost forgotten was there)—drawing _him_ in…

_"My wildest dreaming could not forsee lying beside you…with you wanting me…"_

And then it was gone. The words she sang rang true in her own heart, and the tension evaporated: all that remained was the desire, the wanting; the power of the music had drawn them both in again—drawn them to each other.

_"And just for this moment, as long as you're mine…"_

She pulled away gently, her left hand leading his right, drawing their connection tantalizingly taut.

_"I've lost all resistance, crossed some borderline…"_

She reeled herself slowly back in, brushing his arm with her cool fingers, sparking his skin. She felt him shudder, ever so slightly, at her touch.

_"And if it turns out it's over too fast…"_

At these words she floated just behind him, whispering into his ear, running her nails, light as a breath of air, along the nape of his neck…

_"I'll make every last moment last…"_

…and she drew away completely.

_"As long as you're mine..."

* * *

_

He was in Heaven—the Hell of Heavens, where her angelic, innocent touch turned to edging flames, consuming him in a breathless moment of release. Release, finally, from all the world, all his life: just for this moment, she was his. Just this moment was all they had…afterwards they might be sought out, stolen, separated forever—but as long as they had this priceless, timeless moment together…

It was beyond love. The most he could grasp was a soaring sense of limitless adoration and desire to hold her, to join as one, for all of time that was to come. It was a feeling that came sometimes to lovers, seldom to the rest of the world—never to him.

Except for this moment.

His skin tingled deliciously as he watched her draw slowly away, standing at the edge of the stage on his left, as though about to throw herself into flames. And indeed she would, if he did not take this chance to show his own feelings in return.

She stood staring out, at a fixed point somewhere in space; and he longed to be that sole point that she so devoted herself to.

Christine, his Christine…she'd always been an innocent young thing to him, that he loved beyond definition—but now she was more. She'd suddenly become a woman, and he realized he couldn't treat her like the child she'd always seemed to have been, the child he'd always thought she was. He saw her now for what she truly was: a woman who desired adoration and devotion and acceptance just as he did. It didn't matter that she'd had a happy life and a perfect face: inside, both of them had the same need...which both could fulfill…

…for each other only.

With this in mind, he knew what he was to do. It was his last chance…just this one moment…

He approached her slowly, drawing ever nearer.

_"Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise…but you've got me seeing through different eyes…"_

Now he was just behind her. He slowly lifted a strong but gentle hand to the bare, satin skin of her shoulder. He felt her tremors of excitement, and was renewed by them.

_"Somehow I've fallen under your spell…"_

His hand ran the length of her arm and back up again, as the other came to rest upon her other shoulder, holding her from behind. Her back pressed against him, heat rising.

_"And somehow I'm feeling…it's up that I fell…"_

He ran a finger under her chin and then drew it back towards him, causing her eyes and face to follow his hand, turning towards him. He took her hands and they backed up to the center, gripping each other's hands as though they would vanish in only a moment.

_"Every moment, as long as you're mine,"_ they sang together, voices rising and falling in perfect depth.

_"I'll wake up my body, and make up for lost time—"_

_"Say there's no future for us as a pair…"_ Erik sang on his own, his voice lifting any hesitation or modesty left between them. His voice touched every atom in the air, and he gazed at Christine, whose face was lifted in glowing desire; their eyes met, and they understood at last:

_"And though I may know—I don't care!_

_Just for this moment_

_As long as you're mine…"_

His arms once again found her waist; he drew her closer, her hands lifting to his neck, their hips joined, their breath one and the same:

_"Come be how you want to,_

_And see how bright we shine!_

_Borrow the moonlight_

_Until it is through…"_

They held this last note gently, moving ever closer; their lips almost touching, yet still singing:

_"And I know I'll be here, holding you…"_

The music rose to a climax as they clung to each other tightly, trembling with the intensity of the moment, and sang the last line, no longer for the audience of the world but for each other; the way they longed for it to be:

_"As long as you're mine!..."_

The music dropped low again, and Christine pressed herself to Erik, taking comfort in his arms; content never to move again. Erik was at rest, finally: his angel was in his arms, the way it was meant to be. He closed his eyes and pressed his face against hers, her hair teasing his face and lips as they held each other in an endless embrace.

Erik reluctantly drifted back to earth, and felt Christine's shoulders shuddering; she was crying. He put a gentle hand under her chin and lifted her tear-stained face to his.

"What is it?" he whispered.

She shivered, pressing herself closer to him, the side of her face to his chest.

Then she spoke softly, the mere sound of her voice sending chills all throughout him.

"It's just…for the first time—I feel..."

She shivered, and lifted her eyes to him anew, letting a secret smile melt onto her face; melting his heart. Her voice faded to a lingering whisper:

"…_wicked_."

Her eyes fluttered shut as their lips met in a passionate union.

Christine was the one to draw away, pulling him to what seemed a peculiarly particular spot on the stage, her nimble fingers finding a tangle of ropes just offstage.

They were gone even before the uproar began and the chandelier crashed to the ground.

* * *

So? Review! 

(By the way, I wasn't sure about putting the word 'wicked' at the end at first- I'd wanted to make it something else, you know, more Phantom-appropriate- but in the end, I 1) couldn't think of something as effective and 2) well...Christine really is the wicked one at the end, isn't she? Whee!)


End file.
